There are some things you just shouldn't do when you're the daughter of a world renowned assassin. And falling for an Infamous arms dealer, you're supposed to kill, is one of them.
"We spies oh yeah we slow hands, killers for hire we know not ourselves"
a/n: so this is the only chapter for now, and if people like it I'll keep going, if not this will be a oneshot story onto itself
Slade stood there in the hotel room, her gun pointed at the man sitting on the end of the bed. He was dressed in a skinny black suit that fit him well, the bowtie hung loosely from his neck, undone lying on his white dress shirt. He didn't look up, but his characteristically Swedish blonde hair was all she could see for the moment as he hung his head.
"Am I to be your first, then?" he asked suddenly his head shifted upwards, causing her to flinch a little bit, the gun jerked back momentarily, he could tell that she was scared, he could smell the fear radiating off of her. She said nothing and reaffirmed her stance, she could feel the sweat dripping down her back.
More silence followed his statement, as time ticked by they could both hear the clock. "Should we talk while we tango?" he asked still sitting down on the bed, he began taking off his jacket and then looked up at her. "You don't mind do you?" he asked. He laid it on the bed beside him neatly, and began unbuttoning his sleeves.
"How old are you?" he asked her. She didn't respond, she just stood there holding the gun starring him down like a statue. Like the Mona lisa, beautiful and silent. He laughed. "Too young," he told her "Young and inexperienced." He told her and suddenly he looked up, he caught her off guard focusing his icy grey eyes on her. She couldn't comprehend what she was looking at she felt a wave of unexplainable emotion rush through her. He stood up and she stumbled backwards oddly. One hand fell from the gun and reached out to support her balance, she briefly leaned against the edge of a small lamp table. It tumbled to the ground and she gasped, placing her hand back on the gun.
"Careful," he taunted. He stepped towards her, she backed up a little as he turned the corner.
"Would you like a drink?" he asked her, making his way towards the fully stocked mini bar, above it sat a huge liquor cabinet and beside it a set of shot glasses. "It might loosen you up a little." He continued as she followed him with the gun, her arms never moving from their locked position. He poured the amber coloured liquid into a small shot glass. And she could hear it, the eerie noise of the liquid being pulled down by gravity into the glass. It danced in her ears, the silence it invaded taunted her just like him. He knocked it back quickly his eyes on her while he did so. He hit it down hard on the table.
"You're an underage American aren't you? You're more of the beer and fried chicken type right?" he asked. And made his way back towards the bedroom, avoiding the bed he went to the window, she followed.
"So how much longer do you plan on following me before you kill me Slade?" his voice saying her name wrung in her ears, her eyes widened, she was loosing her cool and he knew it. He laughed and she could see him smiling in the glass that looked out to the small French town below them, it was pitch black out side. Dark and beautiful.
"Of course I know who you are, I know you your father is, I know who your mother was. Slade Madelyn Fitzpatrick I know which fucking boarding school you just graduated from." He spat turning around to look at her. "Saint. Therese." He stated calmly.
And then it turned, although from the beginning he held the power while she held the gun. He advanced to her, she stepped backwards and he kept on going until finally she stopped.
"STOP!" she yelled at him loudly. He didn't until the barrel of the gun was pressing against his hard chest.
"Shoot me." He told her, his eyes never leaving her dark brown pupils, he could see her sweating and shivering, like she had a fever, he could read the panic in her eyes. And he knew she had never been this close to anyone in her life. They were connected, him, the gun, and her. They were connected like a spider web and there was no way either of them were getting out of this. "Shoot me." He told her again.
Slade had always been taught that one life could save millions. And that was exactly the case here, if Sebastien Cole Lyxzen were to die here tonight, as he should, the world would be a better place, with one less sexy Swedish arms deal in it. His friends called him the duke, he was the prince of weapons, and his father had been the king, until his untimely death at her father's hands.
She wasn't focusing when suddenly she felt a jolt, his hands were on hers, on the gun. She panicked. "Shoot me." He told her again, daring her as his fingers slowly felt her own, knuckle by knuckle he slowly moved closer. She felt the electricity coursing through her body as if she had suddenly been awakened. She was loosing her grip, and she knew it, she was being over taken by him. The gun slipped out of her hand, into his, for a moment she was more scared and her heart began to beat faster seeing him with the gun in his hand, knowing he could kill her. But then she felt one arm slip around her waist, pulling her closer. She didn't hear when the gun landed will a dull thud on the carpeted floor, her heart was beating so loud it was all she could hear as her body pressed against his and he slowly began to kiss her neck.
It was so quiet, all she could hear was his lips and her heart beat. She had never felt anything like it, it put her in a state of utter euphoric calmness. He moved across her jaw bone, her eyes slipped closed as he reached her mouth, and began to kiss her and the hunger that burned inside her scared her more than his passion. After what seemed like too long he pulled away and went back to her neck, pulling her down on the bed to straddle his legs.
"Stop." She moaned, her breathy voice breaking as it went. She took a quick intake of air as his hand expertly reached up her skirt to her garter where he unhooked another gun and threw it to the floor. His thumb gently rubbed circles on her thigh. She felt him smile against her neck as the kissing got lighter for a moment.
"If you wanted me to stop you would have killed me by now." He told her unzipping her dress, it fell into his hands and hung at the base of her knees. She moaned in reply and Sebastien took the opportunity to roll her onto her back, he lay on top of her and continued to kiss her as she began unbuttoning his shirt, practically ripping off the last few buttons, it fell to the floor, and she starred at his abs covered in a huge and intricate tattoo it was an artistic marvel and looked like a mural, covered in sweat, on his skin she gently traced it with her fingers. He shivered as they grazed his skin, no woman he had ever slept with had ever taken the time to look at the tattoo, or touched it like she was. She felt him shiver and smiled slightly at the thought that she had at least a bit of control over the much feared arms dealer.
"En svensk tiger?" she read out loud, he nodded biting his lip and feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in his whole life, the duke was falling, for a girl.
She lifted herself up to him and kissed his soft lips allowing his to calm down as he pressed her into the bed in response. She slid her hands down to his dress pants and began unbuttoning them.
"Am I your first?" he asked breathlessly astounded by what she was doing to him already. They weren't even naked and already it was better than any sort of sex he had ever had. Already he was drained wanting more, but at the same time wanting to go slowly, and the duke was never slow, the duke did everything quickly and effortlessly. But for once in his life Sebastien wanted it to go slowly, he didn't want it to end, and he wanted to put an exceptional amount of effort into it. He didn't want this to be just another one he'd forget. Because he knew this was something he'd never forget. This was a moment that would stay with him forever whether he liked it or not.
"Yes." She breathed her body unconsciously arched towards his mouth as he began to kiss her stomach.
She could feel it building inside of her, the tension. She wanted him, so much that it hurt to feel his lips on her skin made her body ache and move on its own towards him. It wanted him, her whole being wanted what was wrong with the world, him. What was wrong with her? She had been taught to contain her emotions, to never allow them to show, and for the most part it had gone well. But now here she was on silky hotel bed, in the middle of the French country side begging for a notorious arms dealer, whom she was supposed to kill, to take her virginity.
"Shoot me." He taunted. And she couldn't help but smile at the truth that hung in his voice. The reality that they would revisit when this was over. It was horrifying.
A/n: if you like it. I'll keep going. If not. I think this was a pretty good one shot!